Saturday, August 19, 2006

The Flower

What am I going to say,
When everything comes out?
I'm like a flower that can't hide anything,
Because people seek me out.

For what do flowers do but attract with their beauty,
All the animals that use them?
They want a rest but they must always give.
That's the price they pay for the adoration.

And those are tears you find on them in the morning,
For the new day, they know, won't find an end,
To the sun, everyone must look,
Until the next day brings it all once again.

And it's alright,
One day all its hard work will be fruitful,
For every dog has its day and every flower,
Will eventually be pulled.

No comments: